by Tracy Kay
Brandon chuckled as the three girls came out of the dressing room. Madeline and Joselyn had changed back into their day dresses, and Gretchen was in a silk, high-waisted gown with a hint of peach color which was in need of a few alterations in the shoulders, sleeves, waist, and hem. “That gown becomes you, Gretchen,” Brandon complimented, and ignoring her blush, he turned to Madeline. “Ready to go?”
“Yes,” Madeline pouted, still mad at her brother. If she didn’t think it would cause her more trouble than it was worth, she would have had the seamstress lower the neckline instead of raising it simply to annoy him.
As Brandon stood to leave, Madeline stopped in front of the window to admire a blue hat that she had been eyeing the past few weeks. It was unusual for her seamstress to have hats in the shop, but on occasion, she had them displayed to match with the gowns she created. Madeline thought the hat would be perfect on Deirdre and she ought to buy it.
As Madeline turned from the hat, she heard a loud pop, and felt a hot shooting pain go through her body before she crumpled to her knees, gasping for breath. She barely noticed the glass on the floor around her, cutting her hands and knees. Brandon was kneeling beside her and Simon had rushed outside; why, she couldn’t fathom. Through the fog of pain, she heard Brandon’s caring voice. “Madeline, let me see?” She tried looking up at him, but the movement hurt too much, so she stared at the floor instead, wondering why there was blood dripping onto the floor. Why was Brandon putting a cloth to her head, she thought, and tried to push him away.
“Madeline, look at me,” Brandon commanded.
When she looked up this time, she was able to focus on his face, but then she felt a wave of nausea. She tried to stop herself, honestly, she did, but when she doubled over to squelch the feeling, all she could do was retch out the contents of her stomach onto the pretty gold carpeting. How utterly embarrassing. She groaned when she felt pressure and pain against her forehead. The voices around her seemed so distant and she could not comprehend why.
“Brandon, is she all right?” Gretchen inquired, kneeling down beside them. She placed her hands onto Madeline’s blood-soaked arm to help keep Madeline from falling forward.
“Gretchen, your gown!” Joselyn exclaimed, pointing to Gretchen.
“Brandon?” Gretchen inquired again, ignoring Joselyn and the blood that stained her hands and ruined her unfinished, new gown.
“I think she is all right. The bullet only grazed her scalp,” he answered, holding Madeline’s head gently in his hands.
“But all the blood?” Gretchen waved her hand, indicating the blood that covered the floor and Madeline.
“Head wounds tend to bleed a lot, Gretchen,” Brandon explained as Simon returned.
“No sign of the shooter, Brandon, and no one saw anything of course,” he curled his lip with disgust. “I had the carriage brought up front. I will deal with the shop keeper’s bills to help clean this up,” he added, indicating the broken window and ruined carpet. “Is there anything else I can do?”
“Open the door for me.” Brandon lifted Madeline into his arms.
“Brandon?” Madeline groaned in confusion.
“Quiet, puss. You will be all right,” he reassured her as much as he did himself. His worry for her outweighed his fury with himself and the shooter. He should have taken more precautions. He should have allowed Raven to place more guards on them. He should have known better. He carried Madeline to the carriage and soothed her when she moaned, and when she passed out, he held her tight, praying that she would be fine. With head wounds, it was never certain.
When they reached the house, Brandon carried her up to her room, quickly removed her ruined clothes, cleaned, stitched, and bandaged her wound. Simon stood silently at the door, ready to help if Brandon needed him, refusing to allow Gretchen or Joselyn to enter the room. When Brandon was finished tending to his sister, he turned and ran a worried hand through his black hair. “My thanks, Simon, for being here.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else, Brandon.” Simon regarded him with concern in his eyes.
“Would you mind sending for Raven? I don’t want to leave Madeline’s side.”
“I will go for him myself,” Simon turned and left.
“Tell me you ungrateful, useless curs, why does the Cathcart chit still live?” Aaron Farrington yelled at his sons as he paced in front of the fireplace in his study. “I give you one easy job and you failed!”
“My lord, I had a clear shot. She would be dead if she hadn’t moved,” whined Farrington’s eldest son, Gilbert, hoping his excuse was enough to appease his father.
“That is beside the point. Kenrik won’t allow the girl to go anywhere now without him and an armed guard. He probably has armed guards around his house by now.” Turning away from his useless sons, Aaron peered out the window and made new plans. Turning back to his sons, he pointed at them. “The Malanys are having a ball and you are both going to be there. The Cathcarts are close friends of the Malanys. They would not miss such an occasion.”
“How are you going to get invitations?” Gilbert asked.
“I was invited,” Farrington sniggered. “It was Kenrik’s doing I am sure, the fool.”
“My lord, what would he have to gain?” questioned Alfred. He was never fond of being part of his father’s schemes and certainly not one that would cause harm to a lady. It did not sit well with him that he had had to watch his brother shoot Lady Madeline. Alfred had intentionally bumped into his brother when he pulled the trigger, causing him to miss his aim. He would never allow his father or his brother know his feelings. Only a fool would risk his father’s wrath.
“If I knew that, I would not be sending you,” he sneered at his imbecile of a son.
“You won’t be attending?”
“Do I look like an idiot? I am not going to fall into some trap Kenrik has set. That is what you are for,” he said scathingly, handing Alfred the invitation. “I expect you both to attend and learn what you can. I want to know everything the Cathcarts are planning, and don’t take escorts. Your job is to focus on the task at hand, not play nursemaid over some pampered bitch. Now leave,” he dismissed them with a quick hand gesture. “I have work to do.”
“This is all your fault, Joselyn,” Gretchen accused, standing in the Cathcart’s parlor shaking with anger and worry. She had been pacing the room for what seemed like hours, while Joselyn calmly sat there playing with her dress. The waiting was unbearable. Gretchen knew it was irrational to blame Joselyn for the shooting, but Madeline was upstairs unconscious, perhaps dying. Gretchen should be blaming the shooter, but the shooter wasn’t available and Joselyn was the next best thing.
With irritation, Gretchen pushed up the ill-fitting sleeve of her ruined gown. In the rush to get Madeline home, she hadn’t changed back into her day dress. The overly large gown was sticky with drying blood and the sleeves kept slipping off her shoulders, but she was too distraught to care. “If you hadn’t brought this danger to Maddy, she wouldn’t be fighting for her life.” Gretchen absently waved away the serving girl who had placed a tray of tea on the table, dismissing her from the room. She was too upset for tea.
“This is not my fault, Gretchen. How could I know that Maddy would be hurt?” Joselyn curled her lip up at Gretchen with distaste. The girl’s hair was in disarray, a smudge of blood was on her cheek and blood covered her dress, which was practically falling off her. Really, the silly girl should have changed before leaving the shop. Joselyn couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with Gretchen. Who was she to accuse her?
“It is your fault. It should be you upstairs, not Madeline. Ever since you moved in here, you have put all the Cathcarts at risk, and you don’t seem to care. You are only concerned about yourself.” With Gretchen’s rising fury, a fire snapped to life in the cold fireplace, and the tea cups from the untouched tea tray began to rattle.
Joselyn glanced quizzically at the fire, but too annoyed at Gretchen, she dismissed it from her min
d. “You are right. I don’t care. I am more concerned about myself. I am glad it is Madeline upstairs and not me,” she responded sarcastically with a bit of truth. Joselyn never wanted this to happen, but what could she do. She knew it had to be Manuel behind this, and although she wanted desperately to tell someone, she didn’t dare.
“You arrogant, self-serving shrew!” Gretchen screamed, not hearing the sarcasm in Joselyn voice. As Gretchen’s temper went out of control, the fire blazed and sparked. A tea cup shattered. Shaking with overwhelming emotion, Gretchen picked up a figurine from the nearest table and began to throw it at Joselyn, but it never left her hand.
Coming up behind her, Raven captured Gretchen’s hand and wrapped his arm around her waist. He took the figurine from her hand, placed it on the table, and pulled Gretchen tight against him, forcing her legs between his. He held her so close that Gretchen lost her balance and was made to lean against him. With his free hand, Raven stroked Gretchen’s arm, her hair, and her throat while nuzzling her neck. Raven softly whispered into her ear. “Calmly, luv. Anger won’t help.”
Furious, Gretchen struggled, but Raven only held her tighter in his powerful embrace, weaving a pattern of calm around her. Raven tenderly touched her mind with his, sending her soothing energy and helping her ease back her tumultuous feelings. He was surprised by the strength of her emotions and her lack of control of her abilities, abilities he had been unaware she had until now. He was going to have to correct her behavior and teach her how to control her power and her reactions. He briefly wondered what other gifts she had hidden and if her brothers had special abilities as well. It was something he was going to need to explore in the near future. “Quiet, little one,” he intoned in a soft, soothing voice. “Nice and calm.”
Slowly, Gretchen’s breathing became even, her anger ebbed away and the flickering fire died out. She began to shiver, feeling confused and disoriented. Raven held her closer and continued stroking her, mentally sending her feelings of well-being and security.
When Gretchen began to relax and her shivering lessened, Raven turned her in his arms and held her against his hard, muscular body, slowly caressing her long, auburn hair. In calm, hushed tones, Raven commanded, “I want you to go home with your brother, take a hot bath, and wash away this blood.” He took her blood-stained hand, pressed it to his cheek, and gave her a gentle mind push to follow his instructions. “Then get into bed. I want you to stay there until morning. Can you do that for me, luv?”
Gretchen nodded and cried softly into his neck. “I don’t want Maddy to die. She is like a sister to me.”
“Brandon will take care of her, luv. Madeline will be fine, I promise.” Raven held Gretchen as she cried, praying that he was right. He hated it when he couldn’t keep his promises and this was one he wanted to keep. Tenderly pushing her away from him, Raven wiped her tears away with the tips of his fingers and ran a soothing hand through her silky hair. “You all right now, little one?”
Although feeling calmer and more rational, Gretchen could only nod, too overwhelmed to speak.
Raven gradually eased his mind away from hers, releasing his power over her, confident Gretchen had control over her emotions. He gave her a soft kiss on her forehead and reluctantly released her. He had this over-powering need to hold and comfort her, and he didn’t want to let her go. “I will come by tomorrow to let you know how Madeline is doing. Would you like that?”
Gretchen nodded again, and Raven smoothly handed her to Simon, who had stood watching in shock at Raven’s ability to calm his sister’s volatile nature. “How did you do that? No one has ever been able to calm Gretchen down once she goes into a rage. We have to let her burn herself out.”
“Practice,” Raven replied ambiguously. “Make sure she gets some rest.”
“I will,” Simon answered, puzzled that Raven could so easily control his sister’s temper. With a brief shake of his head, he ushered Gretchen out of the room and out of the house.
When Simon and Gretchen had departed, Raven turned and faced Joselyn who had been silently observing the scene before her. He cocked his head slightly to the side and studied her, taking her measure. She wasn’t what she appeared to be, cold and unfeeling. That was what she wanted people to believe, but what Raven saw was a frightened, insecure, young woman, desperate for love and attention. A woman who was hiding a dark secret and she was going to tell it to him.
“Sit down, Joselyn,” Raven ordered sternly, pointing to the chair in front of him. His approach to Joselyn would be vastly different from his tender approach to Gretchen.
She looked him up and down with contempt, irked that he hadn’t addressed her properly as a lady. “I do not know who you are, but I have no intentions of doing anything you say.” She had never met the imposing man before, but she assumed he must be a Cathcart relative, considering his resemblance to Lord Kenrik. Joselyn refused to allow this man to make her crumble into the whimpering, sniveling thing that he had made Gretchen. It was disgraceful how Gretchen had allowed him to man-handle her. She would not allow this man to intimidate her, no matter who he claimed to be.
“I am Raven. Now, sit down,” Raven commanded again, never raising his voice.
“Or what, you will beat me?” she snarled snidely.
“No, Joselyn,” he replied, not surprised that she assumed he would physically abuse her. “I will do much worse than that,” he promised, his midnight blue eyes turning darker.
“So, you would rape me,” she accused with contempt in her voice.
“I find it telling that much worse means rape to you, but you are wrong.” He paused and smiled condescendingly at her. “What I will do to you, luv, I will never need to lay a hand on you to do it.”
“That is impossible. You could never make me do anything I do not want to do, aside from beating or ravishing me,” she stated boldly, tossing her head with confidence.
“You would be surprised at what I can make you do and do it gladly. If you wish to find out, please continue this defiance. I am losing my patience.” Ordinarily, Raven would be mildly amused by her defiance, but under the circumstances, he was becoming irritated, and he let his displeasure show.
“Joselyn, please do as he says,” Nicholas instructed as he entered the room, having observed Raven’s exchange with her. Nicholas had learned over the years that it was in a person’s best interest not to provoke Raven. He didn’t fully understand Raven’s special powers, but he had come to respect him. Nicholas wasn’t sure what Raven’s definition of much worse was, but he knew enough that he would never want to cross the man. Considering Raven’s current mood, Nicholas sincerely hoped Joselyn would listen for once and do as she was told.
Giving in, Joselyn swished her skirt and daintily sat on the edge of the chair in front of Raven. Once she was seated, Raven pulled up a chair directly in front of hers, sat, surrounded her legs with his, and demanded, “Tell me who did this to Madeline.”
“I do not know,” she answered, raising her chin insolently.
“Joselyn, you know a lot more than what you have been telling, and I want you to tell me,” Raven instructed slowly and calmly. “If you are not sure who it is, tell me who you suspect.”
“I told you, I do not know.” She tossed her head, aggravated with the insufferable man.
Taking her face in his hand, Raven asserted softly, “You are lying. I promise, you will feel better once you have told me what you are hiding.”
“I am not hiding anything,” she lied, tossing her head away to avoid his touch but to no avail.
Stroking her cheek with his thumb, Raven gazed deep into her eyes, mesmerizing her, touching her mind with his. “Luv, you will only hurt yourself more by keeping this secret. You can trust me. Whatever it is, I am not going to hurt you or judge you, or get angry with you for it.”
“There . . .” Joselyn swallowed hard, trying to fight him. He had some strange control over her and it was a struggle to think. “There is nothing.”
Raven
dropped his voice, speaking softly and evenly. “I know there is something, luv. It is eating away at you. Please, let me help you.” He put his arm around her waist, slowly caressing her lower back with little circles.
He surrounded her. It wasn’t only Raven’s body that was close to hers. He was holding her very lightly with her knees between his and his arm loose around her. She could easily leave his embrace, but it was his essence or something Joselyn could not define that made her stay and made everything confusing. It was as if he had control of her mind.
“Tell me, Joselyn.” His smooth, silky voice invaded her mind and senses, making it impossible for her to control her own thoughts or feelings.
Although she struggled to keep the tears from falling, they did anyway. She tried desperately to keep the words from spilling from her mouth, but she couldn’t fight his hold on her, and the words slipped from her. “I . . . I think it was Manuel Parez who shot Madeline.”
“Why, luv?” Raven’s soft, compelling voice filled her head.
Struggling to keep the truth hidden, she failed when his hand lightly massaged the nape of her neck. “He is blackmailing me and threatened to hurt someone I cared for if I did not pay him,” she blurted out, covering her mouth with her hand in shock at what she admitted.
Raven gently removed her hand from her mouth. “Why is he blackmailing you, Joselyn?” he questioned quietly, while cocooning her into a safe haven that made confiding in him easier.
Unable to stop herself, Joselyn told Raven the secret she had kept for so long. “He was my lover, and he knows about the other affairs I have had and . . .” She stumbled over the words. A part of her urgently wanted to get away from the man, but another part of her wanted her to reveal her soul to Raven, making it impossible to fight him. She was simply unable to push or move away from him, even though he was not forcing her to stay in any way she could determine.